


Comfort Animals

by shulamithbond



Series: A Dad on Elm Street (or, the Terrible Idea AU) [3]
Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cats, Cats Make Everything Better, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shulamithbond/pseuds/shulamithbond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More of this fluffy-until-you-realize-all-its-horrifying-implications AU!</p><p>So at some point in this AU, Katherine finds a mother cat and a bunch of kittens living in the boiler room. Somehow. And as usual, Freddy is terrible at saying no to her, so they just have all these cats now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Kathy!”_ Freddy yelled. His daughter had a tendency to go wandering off in the boiler room, and given the amount of ways a living kid could get injured there, it drove Freddy crazy. He’d built her a whole house, but she still insisted on following him down here and either hanging around watching him, or “exploring.”

He saw an open door and burst through it, fully expecting to find Katherine there. “What has Daddy said about”- he trailed off.

Katherine was sitting amid a pile of kittens, with one big, fatter cat lazing nearby.

 _Goddamn it_ , Freddy thought.

Well, first things first. “What’d I tell you about wandering off in here, Kathy?” he asked, frowning.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said sweetly, and it was pretty hard for him to push the subject, so Freddy decided to move on.

“Where did these all come from?” he asked, indicating the cats.

“I don’t know.” Katherine shrugged. “They just had a nest back here. The mommy cat was wandering around, so I followed her back here. And she has all these babies!” The girl hugged as many squirming kittens as she could to her chest. “Can we keep them, Daddy? Please?”

Freddy steeled himself. He’d have to be firm if he didn’t want a bunch of yowling cats underfoot. “No, Princess, I don’t think that’s a good idea” –

“ _Please?”_ begged Katherine, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. “I’ll take care of them and everything, I swear.” She even sniffled a little, which was a good touch. “They’re my _friends_.”

“You’ve only known them for a little while,” Freddy protested, but weakly. Of course the poor kid wanted pets; _she can barely go to school, and she can’t even have anybody over, because her asshole father ruined her life. She’s lonely, and if you’re not careful, she’s going to turn into a bitter old bastard, just like you._

“Okay,” he said finally, growling just a little. “But they’re not gonna live down here, and you’re gonna take care of them, just like you promised, right?”

Katherine nodded angelically. “Of course, Daddy!” She threw her arms around his waist. “Thank you!”

 _Well,_ Freddy thought as he accepted the hug, _maybe at least they’ll keep her from coming down to my workshop so much._


	2. Chapter 2

Bringing the cats upstairs proved to be the first challenge. Originally, Freddy had had the idea of putting them in a box, but they kept jumping out of it, and the mother stubbornly refused to get in, and started biting him and even Kathy when they tried to lift her in or scoop her up. _I thought cats were supposed to like boxes_ , Freddy grumbled mentally.

“I’ll bring them up, Daddy,” Kathy told him, her little face resolute, as if remembering her promise of responsibility. And she did, scooping up a couple kittens despite their mews of protest, and carrying them up step by step. She had short arms that couldn’t hold too many at a time, and Freddy realized she’d need help if this wasn’t going to take all day.

He sighed and scooped up two kittens in his hat. “No pissing,” he growled down at them, so fiercely that they even stopped complaining, huddling down together scared as he started carrying them up the basement steps.

Suddenly an ear-splitting yowl filled the air, and Freddy heard some commotion behind him. He tried to ignore it and keep climbing, hoping to get this over with quickly.

But that wasn’t to be; he nearly fell off the staircase as he felt two sets of claws like knives sinking into his calves, to the _bone._ The source of the yowling was coming from the same place, the clawed weight hanging off his legs. Freddy yelled and swore, realizing the mother cat had decided to do something about these random humans taking her kittens. Kathy she seemed to trust to some extent, maybe smelled the harmlessness on her, but Freddy probably smelled like blood and death and malevolence. Through the pain, Freddy considered dropping the kittens, but Kathy would have to bring them up then, and they might get hurt, which would make her upset. So he had to keep climbing as the claws gradually withdrew one by one, only to sink into his thighs and then lower back as the old cat climbed up his body.

He was able to reach the top of the stairs just as it reached his shoulders, dropping the kittens onto the carpet and grabbing the mangy cat, throwing her after her kittens. She gave him a dirty look, which Freddy reciprocated.

Kathy brought up the last of the kittens a couple trips later, one of them not held but just clinging to her skirt, hanging from it by its claws. Kathy didn’t seem to mind, setting them all down on the rug and then sitting down herself to untangle the claws. Almost immediately the kittens began to approach her again, climbing on her and sniffing her. Even the old mother cat flopped down, lying against Kathy, her vendetta against Freddy forgotten for a moment. The girl looked so happy with the cats, Freddy bit his tongue before he could complain about his experience on the stairs. He went to find a beer instead, fantasizing about the kill he’d pull off that night.


	3. Chapter 3

If it hadn’t been for the mall security guard falling asleep, Freddy didn’t know how he would’ve gotten into the pet store. It wasn’t like he could just walk in, or even enter during the day – he needed for someone to be asleep, and dreaming, and besides, he technically had no money. At night, nobody would miss a few bags of cat food and litter, and maybe a few other supplies; during the day, it was liable to turn into a scene.

Of course, he had to kill the “security guard” kid, who smelled like pot anyway. Freddy set his body up in the fountain with uncharacteristic neatness, folding his hands over his sliced belly and even straightening his uniform, as he took a final appraising look at the young man laying on top of the pennies, and watched the water start to turn pink.

He was surprised to see the kennels, cases, and tanks still full despite the mostly-dark shop. Freddy had never worked at a pet shop, and had neither known nor wondered what they did with the animals after closing. Somehow, though, he hadn’t expected them to just get left in their cages alone all night. Even to him, the thought was a little bit disconcerting.

He slowed a little, drawn in for the moment by the quiet of the darkened building, anger almost soothed by the lack of people around. The animals stirred a little at his presence, but he wasn’t too worried; the pet store was probably well-insulated as far as sound went.

The cats and dogs reminded him too much of when he was little; a few times, he’d tried to make friends with feral animals he met while he was out avoiding bullies and his foster father. But mostly Underwood would find them, calling the pound if he was sober and usually strangling them or smashing their heads on the wall if he was drunk. The last time Freddy had tried to have a pet – a bony little tabby – he’d actually managed to hide it from Underwood, only to come home from one particularly bad day at school and find that it had coughed up a hairball on his bed. Angry – although more annoyed, if he was being honest – Freddy had dissected it himself in the bathtub, and then thrown its parts in the outside trash. He’d killed other animals after that, of course, but never tried to take any home as pets again.

He didn’t mind watching the little tropical fish, though, or the reptiles. They pretty much seemed to ignore him, and they were quiet. Freddy actually opened the top of a case and reached in to touch one of the snakes with his non-gloved hand, watching its reaction. It had an interesting stripe pattern down its back. It raised its head a little as it saw his hand descend, but then slunk back down, either cowed or used to people giving it a poke or two. Freddy brushed a finger down its scales, and considered taking it. Maybe he could wear it around his neck in some people’s dreams or something. He could just keep it down near his workbench when he wasn’t on a kill.

Then he decided not to.

He closed the case and focused, grabbing everything he figured Kathy would need so he could get out of there as quickly as possible.

Kathy was ready for bed when he got home; she’d climbed under the covers, and fallen asleep waiting for him to tuck her in. The cats had gathered around her on the bed and fallen asleep in a pile. Freddy left them there and went back to the boiler room. He shut the basement door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**_“KATHY!”_ **

Freddy jerked awake in the chair, his mouth tasting like old booze and his head full of the image of his daughter, dead and mutilated at her father’s own hands. He was sweaty, but still felt unusually cold. He realized his hands were shaking slightly.

 _“Mew?”_ Freddy looked down at the warm furry thing, vibrating and humming faintly, under his elbow. One of the cats had curled up under his arm next to him in the chair, and now it looked up at him blearily; he’d woken it up. 

“Shoo,” Freddy told it, but it didn't take the hint. When he tried to push it off, it just batted at his hand. Sure, he could kill it, but he knew Katherine would miss it, despite how many others there were. He decided to wait. Soon, it would figure out he had no food and get bored; go wandering off to somehow find mice in the boiler room.

The cat stood up and stretched, arching its back, as if it was about to wander off. Instead of hopping down off the chair, though, it twisted around and, to Freddy’s mild fascination and horror, climbed up onto his lap, its paws just narrowly missing his crotch. It continued to climb his torso, until it realized it couldn’t scale his chest, and flopped down on his legs instead, still purring.

Just when Freddy thought its behavior couldn’t get more bizarre, the cat began pawing his leg, kneading it hard and steadily as it continued to purr. When this had no effect, it mewed again, looking up at Freddy plaintively, and nuzzling at his wrist with its head.

With a resigned sigh, Freddy reached down and stroked the cat between its ears and down its spine, like he’d seen Katherine do. It was very soft. “You’d make a great fur lining for my glove,” he told it, but without much conviction. The cat’s warmth on him was a little comforting, and so was its purring and rubbing. He wasn’t completely over the nightmare - he never would be, no matter how many times he had it - but amazingly, the cat was making it a little better.

He remembered the cat he'd almost had, and what had happened to it. He found himself hoping he didn’t end up doing that with this cat.

He kept scratching its head, drank the last few sips from the bottle next to him on the table with his other hand, and found himself feeling a little calmer. “Good girl,” he told the cat, despite being not at all sure what its gender was. It mewed appreciatively. For once, Freddy decided not to immediately leap up and check on Katherine - she'd be at school now, anyway - but to sit for a while instead. After all, he wouldn't want to disturb it. It looked like it was comfortable.


End file.
